


Offering

by LiraelClayr007



Series: NaPoWriMo 2019 [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coffee, Fluff, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, Poetry, Sam Winchester Knows, a tiny bit of angst, just because
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 01:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18377942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiraelClayr007/pseuds/LiraelClayr007
Summary: When Dean's making coffee one morning he finds a mug that says "You're my honeybee."  Who put it there? Does it mean anything? Did someone give Cas a present? And why does Dean feel suddenly jealous?*a Dean/Cas poem*





	Offering

Dean’s sleepwalking

through morning

in the bunker kitchen,

making the coffee on

autopilot.

Another gruesome hunt,

another endless drive,

another night plagued with nightmares

he’ll never admit.

Another duffle bag full of clothes

stained with blood and entrails.

He swallows back the bile

rising in his throat, glares

at the coffeemaker.

 

Impatient, he pulls

three mugs

off the shelf,

barely sparing them a glance.

He’s seen them all before.

 

World’s Best Grandpa--

a joke from Sam after Dean’s stint as an old man.

 

A Garfield that says “I hate mornings.”

 

And--

 

_What the hell is this?_

 

He isn’t aware he’s spoken aloud

until he hears Sam behind him.

 

_It’s Cas’s._

 

The offending mug,

black with yellow letters, says

“You’re my honeybee.”

The “o” in “honey” is an orange flower

with a fat bee sitting in its center.

 

Dean feels unexpected

jealousy

flare up in his chest.

Who would give

Cas

something like this?

He tamps the feeling down.

Maybe Cas just

thought it was cute.

He does like bees.

 

_I bought it for him yesterday._

 

The jealousy turns to something

else, ice

maybe,

or maybe just

numbness.

 

_Cas and...you?_

 

He can’t quite

look at his brother’s

face.

Not that he cares,

he tells himself.

Why would he

care?

His brother

and his best

friend.

He wants them to be

happy,

right?

Right.

It doesn’t matter

at all.

Not at--

 

Sam makes a noise,

a loud noise

somewhere between a laugh

and a sigh.

 

_No, you idiot._ Sam takes

the mug and puts it in Dean’s

(slightly shaking)

hands. _Man, you should see_

_your face. Dean, put some_

_coffee in it, walk down the hall,_

_and give it to Cas. It’s time_

_for you two to stop_

_tap-dancing_

_around each other and…_

He gestures vaguely,

unwilling to specify exactly what

he and Cas

should be doing instead.

 

_But--_

_I don’t--_

_Friends!--_

_I mean--_

_Cas and I--_

_never--_

_just--_

 

Dean can’t pull a

thought

from the jumble

in his brain, let alone a

sentence.

 

Sam shakes his head

as he snags his own mug,

now full, and makes his way

deeper into the bunker.

As he walks past he says--

under his breath

but loud enough for Dean to hear--

_Honestly. Get your head_

_out of your ass._

 

He looks a the mug again.

The bee looks at him,

almost accusingly.

_He’s my best friend,_

Dean says to the mug,

and he can’t keep the

pleading tone

from his voice.

 

The bee stares back.

 

_Well what do_

**_you_ **

_know? You’re just_

**_paint_ ** _._

 

_Dean? Are you yelling at a mug?_

 

He turns to see

Cas

in the kitchen doorway--

hair mussed,

head tilted,

blue eyes bright.

 

Oh,

Dean thinks

to himself.

Oh.

 

And before he can think

anything more

he fills the mug and

holds it out to Cas,

an offering of more than

coffee.

 

An offering of

himself.

  


**Author's Note:**

> NaPoWriMo day 6 | prompt: destiel and you're my honeybee 🐝


End file.
